With Whom to Dance
by Rointheta
Summary: After finding her way back to the original universe and to the Doctor, Rose finds out the real reason why he never gave into his feelings whilst they travelled together.
1. Through the Fireplace

**betas**: resile & crazygirlne/aimtoallonsy  
This is the asexuality fic I've been talking about on tumblr. Although the Doctor feels no sexual desire for Rose, he's not sex-repulsed and he feels a strong sensual attraction to her. This fic will deal with their finding a romantic relationship they're both comfortable with. If you want more info on what will happen before reading, you can send me an ask on tumblr or check out my spoiler page on tumblr. :) Thank you!

* * *

**WITH WHOM TO DANCE  
**_Chapter 1 - Through the Fireplace_

* * *

Rose slumped down on her bed with a huff and picked up a magazine from the stack on her nightstand, flipping through page after glossy page without registering what they depicted. She'd fled the living room and film night after realizing her mum had chosen a costume drama about the life and love of Madame de Pompadour. Years had passed since the Doctor had crashed through the window on the spaceship, and Rose thought she was over it. But it had stung, seeing the actress, clad in a dress so similar to the ones Reinette had worn, glide through the halls of Versailles, and Rose had left without a word.

She reached the centrefold, which in Pete's World meant an artsy photograph of whichever celebrity was hot at the moment, and her eyes landed on the very same actress playing Reinette. She even wore the hair and makeup from the film. Rose bit back a curse and shucked the magazine aside, which landed with a thunk in the corner of her room, and the centrefold fell open. The blonde, who lay back against a bed strewn with petals, bits covered by a piece of golden silk draped over her body, taunted Rose in her peripheral vision. She'd seen Reinette's bed, seen it prepared for seduction – or maybe French aristocrats littered their beds with flowers just for fun – and images of the Doctor falling on his back with Madame climbing atop him flooded her head.

She grabbed a pillow, hugged it to her chest, and turned to look out the window. Zeppelins glided across the sky, their blinking lights twinkling against the dark and the faint hum of their engines filling the silence of night at the mansion grounds. If she let her eyes drift half-closed, she could almost imagine herself sitting on the jump seat, drifting safely in the vortex. She pushed away the thoughts of France, and replaced them with memories of lounging on the jump seat and handing the Doctor tools whilst he tinkered. A smile spread across her face, and she leaned back against the headboard, letting the memory turn into a fantasy with finished sentences and exchanged kisses.

A knock on the door broke through her daydream, and she sighed, hugging the pillow tighter. "Come in."

Mickey shuffled inside, soft smile on his lips. "You done sulking, babe?"

"I'm not sulking," she said, bottom lip jutting out. "Just, dunno. Ugh, whatever." She twirled her index finger around one of the tassels sewn onto the corners of the pillow. "Is mum all right?"

"Yeah." He sat down on the bed and leaned closer, catching her eyes. "Rose, you really should watch that film. It's not–"

"Yeah, I know. I know I'm being silly. I know it's not mum's fault for choosing that film, 'cause I never told her what happened in France. She didn't know about Reinette. What was I supposed to say? I don't even know what happened. And she would've hated him for it. Just when she'd started to love him."

"I know. But Rose, there's something–"

"Ugh, I don't wanna watch a stupid film about Reinette's life and how clever and beautiful and sexy she was. I just don't, all right? It's still–"

"But Rose, it's–"

"Yeah, I know it's not the same Reinette. I know it shouldn't matter, but it does. I can't help it. I see her face and I just–"

"But that's the thing. It _is_ the same Reinette."

Rose knitted her brow. "What?"

"It is. It's the same Reinette, but it's– It's a romance story, yeah? So they're," he averted his eyes and shrugged, "there's snogging and shagging and that, but they didn't. As soon as I realised it was the same Reinette, I looked her up online. This film is filling in the blanks. It's based on her diary entries, right, and she never mentioned any shagging or none of it. Just one kiss."

Rose sat up straight, the pillow falling to her lap, and grabbed a fistful of Mickey's sleeve. "What are you talking about? It can't be the same Reinette."

"I've paused it. You should come see for yourself."

Rose nodded, followed Mickey downstairs, and curled up next to her mum, who was holding the sleeping Tony. Jackie put him down in the bassinet that stood by the sofa and tucked Rose to her side, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know."

Rose looked at Mickey. "You told her?"

"I didn't have to." He grabbed the remote and directed it at the TV. "Just remember that it's not what happened, all right? They made it juicier 'cause they wanted a romantic period piece. I looked it up and all. Was even an expert that was livid, 'cause she thought they'd cheapened–"

"Yeah, yeah, you said. Just turn it on."

Mickey pressed play and the film started rolling, showing a ballroom full of aristocrats held hostage by people in smiling theatre masks. Reinette stepped forth with her head held high, urging the guests to calm down and telling the masked assailants that she would not leave her place at the court willingly.

"But this is–" Rose shook her head. "They look like the droids."

"Yeah, that's not all of it. Just watch."

In the film, a handsome man rode into the ballroom on a white horse, aiming a gilded gun at the masked assailants, and scooped up Reinette. He perched her in front of him on the horse and rode off. The King protested, but the man called over his shoulder that he was the Lord of Reims and that Reinette was his.

"Lord of _Reims_?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," Mickey paused the film, "it's a city in France. Suppose they thought 'Lord of Time' couldn't be right and changed it. The whole film's like that. We're in it, even. You and me. But I was his man servant and you his little sister, Lady Rosamonde."

"His _what_?"

"There's no spaceship. No time windows. No TARDIS. And the fellas with the masks are just normal people. And after this they get separated–"

"Oi, don't spoil it." Jackie glared at him. "I didn't read the whole summary online, did I?"

"Sorry." Mickey grabbed his iPad and signaled to Rose to follow him, moving towards the kitchen. "Look," he said after they'd settled down, "everything fits. These men plague her all of her life. That Lord shows up at court. They fall in love. He saves her. They get separated and she returns to Versailles and when he comes to get her, years later, she's dead. And this is all based on her old diaries. On things jotted down in history books. I looked it up, Rose. This is taught at school here." He tapped the iPad. "This is common knowledge, it is. Everybody who knows anything about French history knows that Reinette really loved the Lord of Reims."

"I don't–" Rose frowned. "But we read up about her whilst we waited. In the TARDIS library. Nothing like that happened. There was not a word about mysterious masked men or a lord."

"Exactly."

"What, you're saying that those time windows were portals between our universe and this one?"

"I don't know. That, or this universe and our old one was the same back then and that, somehow, in our world her diaries went missing or– But either way. If we got back there. To that time and went through the time windows…"

"We could get back?"

"We could get back."

"You really think so, Mickey?"

"I don't know. But we have an old vortex manipulator in the archives that should be able to take us back to Versailles. We'll just check, yeah? No harm in it. And if there are no windows, we'll just jump back here."

Rose bit her lip, regarding him for a second. "And if there are windows?"

"My gran's passed away. And if you're going, then I'm not staying, Rose. There's nothing left for me here. I still have people in our old universe. If your dad could resurrect Jackie Tyler, then I reckon we can resurrect Mickey Smith and Rose Tyler."

"Are you serious?"

"It's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god! We could get back!" She threw herself at him and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him close. "Let's do it!" 

* * *

**.**

* * *

It took them a week to arrange their departure and gather enough valuables they could pawn off once they returned to their original universe. They spent their last evening at the Tyler mansion, hugging and comforting Jackie, and cuddling with Tony before hoisting up their knapsacks on their backs. Deciding the fireplace was their safest bet, they checked the coordinates for Reinette's bedroom at Versailles, punched them into the vortex manipulator, held hands and vanished.

When they materialised Rose crashed into a rose-strewn bed just like the one on the centrefold, whilst Mickey staggered into the nightstand. She clutched at the bedspread, crushing petals between her fingers, and waited for her head to stop spinning. He groaned and, breathing out with a whoosh, slid to the floor.

"All right," Rose said, pushing herself to stand up straight. "We can't linger. Through the fireplace we go!"

"Blimey, I feel all–" Mickey rubbed his head. "I don't remember any words."

She snorted and walked up to the fireplace, running her hands over the carved wood in search of the switch. "C'mon, Mickey. We can't risk running into ourselves. Or," she glanced over her shoulder at the bed, "or the Doctor."

"I told you, Rose. They didn't do nothing."

"You can't know that."

"Didn't you ever talk about it?"

She shrugged. "Just two days earlier I confronted him about something and he reacted by running straight into the arms of another woman. Didn't exactly want to find out how he'd react if I confronted him again."

"D'you really think he would've done something even worse?"

"No, of course not. But that day? Hurt so much I couldn't think straight. And later that night I ran into him in the galley and he seemed completely normal. Like he hadn't just lost– He just apologised for leaving me and– Uhm, _us_. For leaving us," she said, and Mickey rolled his eyes. "Shut up. And he said he was happy to be back and gave me a long hug and, dunno. I tried not to think about it. Wasn't like he was my boyfriend or nothing. If he wanted to," she said, gesturing at the bed, then shook her head to kill that train of thought. "Anyway, we should go before someone comes in here."

She waited for Mickey to grab ahold of the fireplace, then searched out the switch. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Good luck."

She smiled. "Good luck."

Holding her breath, she clenched her eyes shut, flicked the switched, and the fireplace rotated. The stench of roasted human flesh filled her nostrils, and bile rose in her throat at the memories of human organs replacing faulty parts.

"Oh, god." She looked at Mickey, finding his face as contorted in disgust as hers. "That smell."

"Yeah. Can't believe I thought it was Sunday roast at first." He shuddered. "Think we're in the right universe, then?"

"We could go look if the TARDIS is there."

"Is that really a good idea?"

"You think jumping around in time before we know for sure is a good idea, then?"

He sighed. "Yeah, all right."

Rose caught his hand and pulled him with her, sneaking through the short stretch of corridor towards the place the TARDIS should stand. Although she did her best to stay quiet, she couldn't help but gasp when the timeship came into view. She squeezed Mickey's hand, turning to him with a beaming face, and he wrapped his arms around her for a celebratory hug. Up ahead stood their younger selves, backs turned to them. Younger Rose was staring at the broken mirror, whilst Mickey was staring at her. Present Rose drifted her eyes back to the TARDIS, whose faint singing reached her ears, almost calling for her.

"I just need to touch her," Rose heard herself whisper.

"Nuh-uh. No way. We're not risking that. Just punch 2008 into that manipulator and we're out of here. Should be past Bad Wolf Bay then, don't you reckon?"

"Just one touch." Rose swallowed and turned to Mickey, eyes wide and imploring. "Please?"

"No." He grabbed her wrist and pushed at the buttons. "Powell Estate 2008? Yeah? We'll go to Shareen's, just as planned."

The singing increased its volume, tempting Rose to come closer. Without her permission, her legs moved and she found herself darting down the corridor. Mickey stumbled after her a couple of steps, clinging to her wrist, then planted his feet into the ground and pulled her back. A grunt escaped her, and she shot their past selves a glance, but they hadn't moved as much as an inch. The singing was nearly deafening, now, and she bent her knees and hurled her body forward to close the remaining distance.

Mickey fell after her, holding her back, and her fingertips only grazed the coarse blue wood. She reached out again, grabbing ahold of the corner now, and an electric jolt shot through her body and shorted out her vision.

* * *

**.**

* * *

Asphalt rasped against Rose's palms and right cheek, and something dug into her stomach. Sounds of people and traffic rushing by filled her ears, but in her groggy state, everything muddled together into a thick buzz. Strong hands closed around her upper arms and helped her to stand, keeping her steady when she wobbled. She leaned back against the stranger, the smell of damp wool hitting her nose, and she breathed in. The Doctor had smelled like that, before he changed, when he wore wool jumpers and leather. The urge to spin around and bury her face in the stranger's chest overcame her, but her body and brain were too disconnected for her to do anything but stay exactly as she stood.

A woman's cooing at her baby penetrated the cacophony of city life. She sounded just like Jackie, only Welsh, and Rose's chest tightened. She'd never seen her mum more happy than when she'd made a new little family with Pete. She didn't need Rose any more.

"Everyone leaves home in the end," she mumbled.

"Are you all right, miss?" The stranger's soft voice stood out from the murmurs around her and she realised everyone but he spoke in a Welsh accent. "Can you hear me?"

Another set of hands, warm, dry, and familiar, cupped her cheeks.

"Thanks, mister," Mickey said. "Rose, I'm here. Can you hear me?" She grunted out something resembling a 'yes'. "And what about your eyes. Can you see me?"

The words lay on her tongue, but her lips refused to cooperate, and she grimaced.

"Excuse me," the stranger said, "do you need more help? I can–"

"Nah. Thanks, but we're good. Our flat's just around the corner. I can take her there myself."

"You sure?" The man sounded wary, hands still on her arms, only now with a gentler grip.

"Yeah." Rose groaned and pressed her hands against her temples, fluttering her eyes open and making exaggerated movements with her lips to warm them up. "We're fine," she said, the words only slurring a little. "Just low blood sugar, that's all. Thanks."

"Are you sure, miss?"

"Yeah. Happens all the time. Mickey knows what to do."

"If you say so. Good luck," the man said, and walked off.

Rose spun around to get a glimpse of him but could only make out a black blur through her hazy vision.

"Oi," Mickey said, moving around to stand in front of her, "next time you decide to dematerialise, give us a heads up, yeah? Nearly stumbled into traffic, I did."

"I didn't. I didn't even touch the vortex manipulator. Must've been the TARDIS," she said, rubbing her arms to stave off the biting chill. She surveyed their surroundings, eyes gliding over unfamiliar buildings and a dull sky. It took her several seconds to catch that not a single zeppelin puttered along above them. She broke out into a grin.

"Look at the sky, Mickey. Look."

"Yeah, I know," he said, voice thick. "What day is it, then, you reckon? And where are we? Is it just me, or is everyone Welsh?"

On a bench a couple of metres ahead lay a newspaper, and she rushed forward and scooped it up. "Oh," she said, brows knitting together. "Natasha Richardson passed away yesterday. Wow. That's–"

"Rose, focus, yeah? What's the date."

"Oh, sorry. March 19th, 2009. Hang on a minute. Really? Two thousand and nine? Why would she make us skip a whole year, though?"

"Beats me. Guess we should find a pawnshop and a payphone and find out."

"Yeah. Oh, my god. Mickey!" She turned to him with a smile and drew in a deep breath. "We're home!" She launched herself at him with a squeak and he hugged her back, chuckling. "We're really home!" 

* * *

**tbc**


	2. Surprise Surprise

**betas**: crazygirlne/aimtoallonsy

* * *

**WITH WHOM TO DANCE  
**_Chapter 2 - Surprise Surprise_

* * *

The phone in the console room had been ringing nonstop for the past ten minutes. Martha and Donna had spent most of that time looking for the Doctor's bedroom without success, and now they went back to the galley and to the chat they'd had over carrot cake and coffee about Jenny and Messaline. Another couple of minutes passed without the caller giving up, and Donna heaved a sigh.

"That's it. Can't even hear myself think like this! I'm gonna answer it."

"I don't think he's gonna like that."

"Hm," Donna nodded and stood up, "and I don't think I care. C'mon."

They headed out to the console room, but just as Donna's hand closed around the handset, she stilled.

"How should I answer? 'Hello," she said in the bright, professional tone she'd perfected during her time as a temp, "you've reached the Doctor's residence. He's indisposed at the moment. Can I take a message?' Oh! What if it's a _baddie_?"

"Would they give him a ring, though?"

"Well, it's not like he has a bunch of friends, is it?"

"Could be Jack."

"Ooh! Who's Jack? Is it a friend? Does he really have a friend?"

Martha grinned. "I'll tell you afterwards. Just answer already."

"You're on my side now, then?"

"I'm just curious," Martha said with a shrug, nudging Donna. "Go on."

Donna nodded, picked up the phone and peered at the buttons, pressing one of them. "Hello, how may I help you?"

"Hi. Is this–" A woman's voice echoed in the console room and Donna mouthed 'speaker phone,' pointing at the button she'd just pressed. "Uhm, is the Doctor there?"

"Not at the moment, I'm afraid."

"Oh. But this _is_ the TARDIS, right?"

"Who's asking?"

"A friend," the woman said. Donna's eyebrows shot up and she gave Martha a curious look. "Is he there? Why didn't he pick up? I've been ringing for, like, fifteen minutes. The answering machine usually picks up, but now it just keeps ringing and– Is he– Is he all right?"

"He's fine. Just sleeping, and we, uhm…"

"Can't find his room?" the woman asked.

Donna smiled. "Maybe."

"Yeah. Neither could I. If he doesn't want to be disturbed, then the TARDIS won't let you. Anyway. So this might sound like a really weird question, but d'you know if he's– I don't know when it is for him. Is he in a suit? Or, no. Suppose that could– Is he tall and thin? With great hair. Some _really_great hair." She paused, then added in a much lower voice, "Shut up."

Donna blinked and put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, sorry. Not you. Anyway, does he look like that?"

"He looks like a skinny cockatoo in pinstripes. Does that help?"

The woman laughed. "Yeah. Sounds like him, all right. And you're travelling with him, so that means he's not alone and," her voice muffled slightly, as though she covered the transmitter and talked to someone on her end, "that must mean Bad Wolf Bay's happened for him, right? 'Cause he said–"

"Bad Wolf..." Martha furrowed her brow. "Jack's mentioned Bad Wolf."

"Jack? You know Jack? Jack's there?"

Martha ducked her head, eyes directed at the floor. "You're her, aren't you?"

"I, uhm– My name is Rose. Rose Tyler–"

"No way!" Donna gaped. "Not _the_ Rose."

"Uhm, yeah." Rose chuckled. "At least I think so. Unless he's travelled with more Roses. So, uhm, could you maybe do me a favour? Us. Do us a favour."

"Does this favour means he's gonna stop moping?"

"He's moping? Why is he– Oi, Mickey, what–"

"Look," a man's voice rang out through the speakers, "just hold the bloody phone like this. I wanna hear what's going on. Oi, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Donna and Martha said simultaneously.

"Hi, I'm Mickey. Mickey Smith. Heard of me, then? Nah, didn't think so," he said without waiting for an answer. "I'm Rose's best mate. Used to travel with her and the Doctor. So are you gonna help us or what?"

Donna exchanged looks with Martha; she shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, we're listening."

Once Rose and Mickey had taken turns telling their story, Donna broke into a wide grin. "I have an idea." Whilst Donna talked, Martha's eyes widened and she took an almost imperceptible step back. Rose and Mickey remained silent – even after Donna'd finished. "Well?" she said, smiling. "What d'you say?"

"He's never gonna go for that," Rose said. "Not unless he's changed a lot since I– No, I don't think he'll agree."

"He doesn't have to agree. It'll be a surprise! If we have to, we'll lure him there with some alien nonsense." Donna looked at Martha. "I'm sure you can make something up, right?"

"Don't drag me into this," Martha said, holding up her hands. "I agree with Rose. He's not gonna like that."

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Donna rolled her eyes. "Listen, he's not had it easy lately. I just think he could do with some fun for once. I mean proper fun. Not barely escaping death, or whatever else barmy rubbish he claims is fun."

"Yeah, I'm with her on this. He–"

"Mickey!"

"What? I just wanna see his face when–"

"No, absolutely not. Have you lost your mind?"

"Hey, did you guys say Captain Jack's around?" Mickey asked. "I bet he'd be on our side."

"Really?" Donna perked up. "Well, let's give him a ring, then! What's his number?"

"Is he really–" Rose paused. "I don't know your names."

"Oh! I'm Donna. I travel with the Doctor. And this is Martha."

"Hi," Martha said and waved, then shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Martha travelled with the Doctor after he–" Donna glanced at Martha. "After you got lost, Rose."

"Lost." Rose exhaled. "Yeah. Martha? Did you know Jack? Last I heard he was far into the future, rebuilding the Earth."

"No, he's in Cardiff. Head of Torchwood Three."

"Cardiff? You're joking!" Rose laughed. "We landed in Cardiff! Torchwood Three. Oh, that sneaky little TARDIS! It's all her doing, isn't it? Is it in a hub on the Plass? Can you enter from the waterside? You could in our universe."

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god! We'll head right over. Uhm, we'll call once we get there, all right? And we can finish our scheming."

"What?" Donna smiled. "You're agreeing with my brilliant plan?"

"Oh, why the hell not. Just a few changes, but we can talk about that later, yeah? We have a captain to find!" 

* * *

**.**

* * *

Donna and Martha walked into the console room, heels clicking against the grating. The Doctor looked up from the monitor and over his shoulder, sweeping his eyes over their clothes.

"Now, wait, wait, wait," he said and Donna shot him a bright smile. "Let me get this straight. Jack phoned the TARDIS whilst I slept, wanted our help because of Autons running amok in Cardiff," the Doctor shook a vial of antiplastic in front of her and Martha, "and you're wearing smart dresses and high heels?"

Donna tilted her head to the side and cocked an eyebrow. "Laundry day."

"Both of you?"

"Of course not! It's not like Martha had any luggage, is it? She borrowed something from the wardrobe room. I'm not gonna run around Cardiff overdressed alone. I'd look ridiculous."

Martha nodded. "Female solidarity."

"Hm." The Doctor slipped the vial into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Right, ready to go? We're parked in the hub, March 19th, 2009, seven o'clock – in the evening of course – just as you asked. Rather specific for something..." he said, drawing out the word and narrowing his eyes. "Are you having me on? Is this some sort of," he scrunched up his nose and gestured a circle at them with his index finger, "thing? You know, a thing? Are you up to something, hm?"

"What? Us? No, not at all." Donna nodded at Martha. "Think this one would let me plan some sort of thing?"

The Doctor exhaled, eyes flitting between his two friends. "Oh, I think you just might've managed to persuade her. Yep. And with Jack involved there's no knowing what kind of–"

"Oh, you just had to go and Sherlock this whole thing, didn't you? Yes, we're gonna take you out for a dinner with Jack to celebrate your birthday, since–"

"My what? It's not my– I don't even have– Or, I suppose one could argue that my birthday's at Christmas, but–"

"Oi, shut it, Spaceman!" Donna huffed out a breath, glaring at him. "Just walk out those bleeding doors and act surprised!"

"Blimey, you're in a mood," he said, eyes round. "Just-just calm down. I'll attend the _thing_."

"Good!" she said with a tug on her dress.

"There we are, then."

As soon as he'd turned his back to them, Donna shot Martha a wide grin and pulled her along, following the Doctor down the ramp and to the TARDIS's doors.

"But just so you know," he called over his shoulder, grabbing the door handle. "I have excellent night vision," he pulled the door open, "so if there's some sort of clichéd surprise party out there, I'll definitely have to use my very best– Mickey?" 

* * *

**.**

* * *

When the first rasping groan of the TARDIS echoed out in the hub, Rose could barely stand still. Her heart raced, bringing a flush to her cheeks, and all the moisture vanished from her mouth, whilst her hands felt so sweaty she'd surely leave two dark handprints if she were to press her palms against Mickey's back. She wiped them on the sides of her dress, the beads rasping against her skin. Jack had dragged her and Mickey out for a shopping trip, since they'd only brought regular clothing in her knapsack, and picked out a sparkling, golden little number for her that made her uncomfortable. But she'd made him immortal, then just left him in the future, and he'd lost half his team and gone through so much, and when she emerged from the dressing room, his tired eyes had lit up from his happy smile. How could she ever say no to that?

So, here she stood, dressed up and sparkly, and her reunion with the Doctor would take place in front of four other equally dressed up people. It made her feel as she had whenever she performed with the choir at school: slightly woozy and hot, and wondering whatever happened to her vocal cords and whether anyone could see how much her legs trembled.

Although the closest she and the Doctor ever came to being more than friends was possessed snogging and occasionally sharing a bed – in the chastest way possible – she'd never  
lost hope that it would change. He only needed time. Then came the white wall separating them, and she'd spent her nights imagining a million different ways they'd find one another again, all of them resulting in a passionate kiss that would tell her the end to the sentence he never finished. That was, during the nights she didn't wonder whether she'd imagined all those stolen glances and touches and the crackling tension between them.

The timeship's form turned solid, dragging her out of her musings. Rose locked her eyes on the door and held her breath. The Doctor stepped out, babbling words she was in no state to understand, then froze, staring at Mickey.

"Your very best Mickey, eh?" Mickey grinned, then nodded. "Boss. Long time no see."

"Wha–" the Doctor said, mouth hanging open and eyes widening under drawn-together eyebrows. He had to see her. She stood barely over a metre from Mickey, after all; yet, the Doctor remained still instead of running towards her and sweeping her up in a big hug like in all her daydreams. "Mickey? But if–" The Doctor let out a ragged breath. "What–"

Mickey inclined his head in Rose's direction. The Doctor swallowed and closed his eyes. Then, inhaling deeply, opened them again and drifted his gaze over to where Rose stood. Waiting for him to say something, to change his gobsmacked expression to that beaming smile he always gave her whenever they were reunited, she shifted on the spot and played with the beading of her dress. He didn't move.

She raised her hand for a weak wave. "Hi."

He shook his head.

"No?" she said through a laugh.

"Rose?"

"Yeah." She smiled and held her hands up, arms apart, wiggling her fingers. "Surprise!"

His breath rushed out of him, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Yeah, I'll say."

"Uhm," she said, picking at her nails, then let out a breathy chuckle and averted her eyes. "Can't think of what to say."

"Go hug her, you idiot," Donna stage whispered, one hand curled around the side of her mouth.

He inhaled through his nose, lifting his eyebrows. "Right."

With a grin stretching from ear to ear, he moved towards Rose with his arms open wide. She threw herself into his embrace, linking her arms around his neck and snuggling her nose into his shoulder to breathe in his scent. He smelled just the same, and she smiled so widely her skin prickled when it tightened over the rounded apples of her cheeks. His hands splayed over her back, fingers pressing into her, pressing her so close to him she had trouble breathing, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She only hummed and let her eyes drift closed.

Someone coughed discreetly, and the Doctor pulled back, but kept his hands on her upper arms. "How? How did–" His smile slipped. "Not the rift. You didn't–"

"No. Don't worry. We," she glanced at Mickey, "Mickey figured out a way. Jack's booked us a table at this nice place. I'll tell you on the way, yeah?"

"No." His hands ran down her arms until he grabbed her hands, squeezing them. "I need to know now. I need to know it was safe. That there aren't any– Is there a tear I need to close?"

"No. It was–" She licked her lips, eyes flickering down to his burgundy tie, and she noticed, for the first time, that he wore a blue suit. The change had her so stunned she forgot the rest of her sentence, and she ghosted her fingertips over his left lapel. "When did you get this?"

"I found it in the wardrobe room."

"I've never seen it before."

"Rose, focus. How did you get here?"

"We found a portal." She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes. "The time windows on that spaceship that led to, to Versailles. It wasn't this universe's Versailles. It was Pete's World's."

He furrowed his brow, nose scrunching up. "What?"

"Yeah. We found out by accident. Or, uhm, luck, I suppose. Mum rented a film about Reinette's life, and we were all in it."

"What?"

"Yeah, well, versions of us. I was, uhm," Rose chuckled, "I was your sister."

"What?"

"Oh, not this again." Donna sighed. "I swear he could do this for ages. C'mon, then, Spaceman. Is there something you need to do, or can we all go to dinner? I'm starving."

The Doctor's head whipped to Donna, then to the rest of the people in the room as though he'd forgotten about their presence. "I, well, er, I really should look into the time wind–"

"C'mon, Doc." Jack walked closer to him. "You have a time machine. As long as there's no imminent danger– And there isn't, is there?"

"Well," the Doctor scratched his neck, "I did close all the time windows, and the TARDIS didn't detect anything dangerous."

"Exactly. So, dinner? Just you and all your best friends," Jack said, gesturing at the others. "How about it? Then you can go check your time windows all you like."

The Doctor glanced at the TARDIS, then at Rose, and his eyes softened. "Oh, all right. Dinner first."  
_  
_

* * *

**tbc**


	3. Glances

**betas**: crazygirlne/aimtoallonsy

* * *

**WITH WHOM TO DANCE  
**_Chapter 3 - Glances_

* * *

Donna and the others padded after the host, who showed them to a round table by the windows. During their walk to the restaurant, Rose had, with a little assistance from Mickey, shared the story of how they'd found their way back. Although the Doctor had started out asking questions and reacting to what his old friends had said, he quickly grew silent, even closed off, with his hands in his pockets and eyes directed at his feet. By the time they'd reached the restaurant, the levity in Rose's voice sounded forced and her smiles looked stiff.

"Here we are," the host said. "Ana will be your waitress tonight. Enjoy your meal."

"Lovely. Thank you." Donna smiled and sat down, looking at Rose to keep the conversation going. "And then you materialised in Cardiff?"

"Yeah, I–" Rose stilled, watching the Doctor take a seat between Donna and Martha, then licked her lips and chose the chair opposite them with Jack and Mickey on either side of her. "Yes. We, uhm, funny thing, actually. I'd set the coordinates to 2008 to make sure enough time had passed between, uhm–" Her eyes flickered to the Doctor but landed on his tie, not his face, and she twirled a wayward strand of hair between her fingers. "Yeah, so we found the TARDIS and I got this shock, right, like an electric shock, and next thing we knew, we were in Cardiff, 2009. I think the TA–"

"The TARDIS did it." The Doctor nodded, the soft smile on his lips clashing with his sad, tired eyes. "Rose left in 2007," he said to Donna. "Well, you know that. That's when I met you. Then, the following year," he turned to Rose and Mickey now, "when I travelled with Martha, and-and Jack, something happened that– Well, you wouldn't have been safe."

Rose knitted her brow. "What happened?"

He shot Jack a quick glance, mouth set in a firm line, and Martha shifted in her seat. They stared down at the table whilst Rose stared at them, moving her gaze from one person to another. Then laughter from a nearby party broke the silence, and Jack cleared his throat.

"And old friend of the Doc's made an appearance. Let's just say he didn't treat us very well. Had he gotten his hands on you, Rose?" Jack shook his head. "Sometimes he amused himself by telling us what he'd do to you. Sometimes he lied and said he'd broken through the walls between the–"

"That's enough, Captain."

"Yeah. Sorry. We were actually glad, the Doc and me, that you were trapped."

"Yeah," the Doctor said, rubbing his jaw and looking out the window.

Rose's eyes widened. "Oh, my god. Who was he? What did he do to you? Doctor? Are you–"

"We're fine, Rose. _I'm_ fine."

Her lips moved with silent words, and she pressed her hands into the tabletop, leaning forward with her eyes locked on him under furrowed brow. Then, as though she caught herself, her worry lines smoothed out and she sat back down, nodded.

"Yeah, all right. Good." She nodded again, thumb finding its way to her mouth, and she bit the nail, then sighed and let her hand drop. "Anyway, landed in Cardiff. Pawned off a couple of things to get money. Phoned the TARDIS. And the rest is history, I suppose."

"Should've known she wasn't the Madame de Pompadour of this universe." The Doctor slipped on his glasses with one hand, flipping his menu open with the other. "Hm… Ah." He shut it again, placed it on the table, and pocketed his glasses. "She didn't act the way I would've expected her to. She was a little bit– I wonder where that universe broke off, what changes made–"

"Good evening." A smiling waitress appeared at their table. "Welcome to Grey's Bar and Restaurant. My name is Ana. Would you like to hear about our specials tonight?"

* * *

**.**

* * *

Whilst eating, everyone caught up, shared their stories, got to know one another, and their happy chatting eased the tension until it fizzled away. Rose, Mickey, and Martha realized they had some friends in common, and Donna and Mickey ganged up on the Doctor by telling anecdotes that didn't put him in a favorable light, but did make everyone but him laugh. He only pouted and spat out a couple of defensive comments – and gave Rose warm glances whenever she aided him. Martha showed off her ring and talked about Tom, Mickey joked about Rose's celibacy – but she quickly shut him up with a kick under the table – and Jack told them about Ianto. He'd barely finished talking before Rose yanked at his arm and convinced him to phone Ianto over. The man in question, impeccably dressed in a smart suit and polished shoes, arrived by the time they'd finished dessert.

"Not in a bikini, I see," he said to Rose after Jack had made introductions.

The Doctor frowned. "Why would she be in a bikini?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Jack grinned. "Had I gotten my way, she would've–"

"Jumped out of a cake," Rose said, "wearing nothing but a string bikini. An idea he's apparently shared with the rest of the world."

"Nothing but a– What for?"

"As a surprise. But I told him you wouldn't want that. And neither would I. D'you know what I do want, though?" She lowered her chin and smirked at Jack. "We never did get that dance, did we, Captain?" She proffered him her hand. "Care for a turn about the dance floor? Better late than never."

"Uh," his eyes darted to the Doctor, "not sure how jealous this version is yet. Will he go all Oncoming Storm on my ass?"

"What about me? Ain't I the one who should be worried?" Rose smiled at Ianto, then at Jack. "You're the one with a boyfriend, after all."

"Don't worry. If I'm going Oncoming Storm on anyone's arse, it'll be Jack's," Ianto said without even a hint of a smile. "Preferably once we're alone, though."

"I wouldn't mind an audience." Jack shrugged, soft fabric moving over his strong shoulders, and Donna couldn't help but lean closer. "Been awhile since I did that."

Rose laughed, looped her arm around Jack's and pulled him with her when she stood up. "C'mon, my lads. I'll dance with the both of you, but if you want someone to watch you in the bedroom, I think you'll have better luck with Mickey."

"Nah, not me." Mickey's face split into a wide grin. "Donna, on the other hand..."

"Oi!" Donna tore her eyes off Jack, shot up from her chair and drew in a deep breath for some proper scolding, but in her flustered state, no words came to mind, and she scowled at Mickey, pressing her lips together. He pressed his together as well, but to hold back a laugh, and with a final glare at him, Donna turned to Martha instead. "I wanna dance as well. Don't think I've gone dancing once, since I came aboard the TARDIS. What d'you say, Martha?"

All of them ended up making their way across the room to the dance floor – all of them but the Doctor. Donna kept an eye on him, whilst he kept an eye on Rose, turning to gaze out the window whenever she shot him a look. After a couple of dances of this, Donna had had enough and scurried back to the table.

"What's wrong, Spaceman?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

"Hm? Nothing."

"Oh? So you're not the one who just was reunited with is long lost girlfriend but still sits here in the dark like a muppet, staring at the others having fun?"

"Nothing's wrong, Donna. Go back and have some fun. You've earned it. I really don't take you to enough fun locations. It's all death and destruction, isn't it? Maybe I should take you to a spa, hm? Would you like that? Rose always wanted to go to a spa, but we never went. There was always something else… Martha would like it too, I reckon, but she'd never ask. Maybe I should bring all three of you! That would be fun. Then you three could bond over seaweed and I'd find something interesting to explore. Ever heard of the planet Mid–"

"Listen." Donna grabbed the seat of the chair and scooted closer. "I know it's not been easy for you. And I just want you to be happy, and I've got a feeling Rose is the only one who'll make that happen and–"

"You make me happy, Donna."

"Oh, I know, you big dumbo. I don't mean that kind of happy." She nodded to Jack and Ianto, who swayed in a tight embrace on the dance floor. "I mean _that_ kind of happy. Don't you miss it? She's been gone for years and now she's back. She's here, Doctor. Don't you want that again?"

"We were never like that."

Her jaw dropped. "No way. No way!"

His eyes wandered over to Rose, who raised her arms in the air and bumped her hip to Martha's, then tossed her head back with a laugh. A smile spread across his face, eyes crinkling and dimples forming in his cheeks, but he relaxed his features and turned back his attention to Donna.

"I really should think about heading back to the TARDIS. I need to check those time windows. I can come back and pick–"

"No. I've watched you mope for–"

"I do not mope."

"Yeah. Yeah, you mope. Sure, most of the time you're all manic smiles and both your legs and mouth are running a mile a minute and it's a wonder it's not killed me yet. But back in the TARDIS? Have you seen yourself? You sit on that bloody jump seat of yours, staring into the time rotor, and it takes a flipping miracle to break through whatever–" Donna cut her rant short at the stony look on his face, exhaled, and softened her voice. "She's here, Doctor. She's right here and she's back to stay. Isn't that good?"

He slipped two fingers underneath his glasses, rubbing one eye. "Yeah."

"Then talk to her. Please. Cos I'm not gonna spend my time aboard that magnificent ship of yours being your go-between whilst you work this out. You drop me off at home and don't pick me up again until you've solved whatever it is you need to solve with Rose."

"Donna–"

"No, don't you 'Donna' me. Don't you love her?"

"All my companions are–"

"Oh, don't start!" She huffed out a breath. "Pull that one with her and you'll have to deal with me, you hear? I'm not saying you have to do it tonight, but–" Donna tilted her head to the side and, smiling gently, placed a hand on his upper arm. "Something's eating away at you. I can tell. _She_ can tell. The whole bleeding world can tell. Talk to her. She came back for you. It's the least you can do. And take your time, Doctor, if you need to. So long as you show up Sunday evening and pick me up. You're not leaving me at home with my mother."

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a lopsided smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good!" She patted his hand and got to her feet. "I'll make sure Martha and Mickey leave you alone as well. See you in a bit."

"Donna?" he said, making her stop and turn around.

"Yeah?"

"I–"

He sighed, slumped forward a little, and for a second managed to look both like Granddad whenever he thought about the war, and like a small boy waiting outside the principal's office. Her heart clenched at the sight, and she returned to his side and sat down again, catching his eyes with a soft smile.

"What is it?"

"Donna, I don't know how to– I don't know _how_." He pouted and sank deeper into his chair. "I'm not good at _that_ kind of talking."

"The only thing you can do is to try. Just start and you'll find your way. And if you get lost, take a break and start again. She won't go anywhere. She won't run away. She'll wait. Cos that woman? She crossed universes for you. She'll wait."

"Yeah." He sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. "That's the problem. I'm not sure I want her to."

Donna's face fell. "Oh, but I thought– Oh, Doctor. You just lost Jenny. Anyone would feel hesitant to start a relationship right after losing their child. Take tonight, whilst Rose sleeps – she must be exhausted, poor thing – and really think this through." Donna pressed her hand against his chest. "Think about what _you_ want. And tomorrow, you talk with her. Or I'll kick your scrawny alien bum."

The Doctor smiled crookedly. "You already like her."

"Yeah, I do. Like the whole lot." She sniffed and cocked her head. "You've got great taste in friends. And don't worry about us. I'll make sure we're occupied. We'll check into a hotel, if we need to. And we can take the train back to London tomorrow and–"

"No, you don't need to do–"

"Yes, we do. Cos I know you. You'll use any distraction you can to procrastinate, and I won't let you."

"Yeah." He gave a series of quick nods, staring into nothing. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"Yeah."

They started at the sound of a chair scraping over the floor, heads snapping in its direction. Rose was slumping down on her chair, already preparing for a yawn with her arms stretched out and mouth half-open. She let out a little squeak, rolled her shoulders, then lifted them and scrunched up her nose like a sleepy bunny snuggling up. Donna watched the Doctor through the corner of her eye. He sat spellbound with the most adoring look on his daft face. She sighed, and the sound of it had an instant effect on Rose, who froze before flying to her feet.

"Oh, uhm. Didn't mean to interrupt. Sorry. I'll, I'll come back lat–"

"You didn't." Donna smiled. "Sit down, Rose. You look tired."

"Yeah." Covering her mouth with her hand, Rose broke into another wide yawn. "Sorry. I'm knackered. It's been the longest day."

"I was just," the Doctor shrugged one shoulder, "going back to the, ehm, TARDIS. Need to find the coordinates for the spaceship. You could–" He jerked his head in the direction of the entrance to the restaurant.

Rose's eyes lit up. "Yeah? You need my help?"

"Oh." He blinked. "Nah, I was thinking more, you know, that you should get some sleep. Unless you wanna dance some more."

"Uhm, no, I–"

"Oh, for the– Shoo!" Donna waved at them. "Go on. Back to the TARDIS with the both of you." She gestured at their dancing friends. "I'll keep an eye on this lot. Now, go!"

* * *

**.**

* * *

Hugging her body to stave off the chill, Rose walked beside the Doctor and listened to his explanation of what he was going to do on the spaceship. The sequins of her dress chafed against her arms and her feet throbbed from dancing in heels. But that pain provided her with a welcome distraction from the aching dread in her chest.

"Sure you don't want my help?" she asked once he'd finished.

"I don't need it. And you're tired. You should go to–"

"But– Will you be all right?"

He furrowed his brow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Cos you'll go back to, you know. You-you lost...her." She licked her lips. "Reinette. You lost her and now you have to go back and–"

"She was never mine to lose, Rose."

"Right. But–"

"Your room is still there. I've never– Well, I went inside once. I needed, er– I took your shirt. The purple one. When I was calling for you, to bring you to Bad–" He shook his head, exhaled. "I needed something to help me focus. Something with your scent that would, and, yeah. It helped."

She smiled. "Like a psychic. They always need something the victim wore."

"Well," he tugged at his earlobe, "I suppose. It's not easy, forming that kind of connection from one universe to the other. Reckon I wouldn't have been able to, had you not looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Our minds will always be linked, because of it, yours, hers, and mine. Well, that's not– Linked sounds very intrusive, doesn't it? Not, not linked as in bonded. But sharing a connection like that, it creates pathways and shapes our minds to make it easier to lock onto one another." He held both hands in front of him with his fingers spread, then weaved them together and gave a tug. "See?"

"Like pieces of a puzzle."

"Huh." He nodded, frowning in appraisal. "Yes, sort of like that. It's nothing you notice, not unless you need to access these pathways, but then it's easier. Faster. You connect the pieces and get a solid result. A strong connection."

They'd reached the hub and he pulled the door open for her. They walked inside, Myfanwy screeching high above them, and made their way to the TARDIS in silence. Rose shuddered and paused with her foot in the air before taking her first step inside the timeship in years. A welcoming hum washed through her mind, and she patted a coral strut, smiling.

"Hello, old girl," she whispered. "Glad to see you're looking as gorgeous as ever."

"I need to start." He stuck his hand inside his suit jacket and pulled out his glasses, slipping them on and leaning forward to peer at the monitor.

"You really sure you don't need help?"

"You've yawned ten times since we arrived at the restaurant."

Rose smiled. "Anyone ever tell you you're a little bit creepy?"

"Yes." He frowned. "Let's see. Trip before that was dropping off Sarah, and after was Pete's World. Great! Ran a diagnostics after the crash. Will help me pinpoint the time and find the coordinates. Just with a press of these…" His fingers danced over the keyboard. "Aaand, yep! There we are. Into the directional unit, oh, thirty minutes after we left should suffice. Always easier to be accurate when you return to the same spot and," he pulled the dematerialisation lever, "there we go!"

The timeship's wheezing groans had never sounded more beautiful to Rose and, holding the railings for support, she closed her eyes and smiled. When she opened them again, she found the Doctor looking at her with his hands in his pockets and his mouth tense.

She nodded and swung her arms around her body. "Time for bed, then?"

"I'm not going to make you, Rose. If you want to help, you can help. But if you're tired, your room's still there. Or, I suppose, if you don't feel at home there any more, the TARDIS can make you a new bedroom. There are–"

"Do you–" The rest of the sentence died in her dry throat, and she swallowed and tried again. "Do you want me to leave? I'm sure Jack would let me sleep on his–"

"No."

"Okay. Yeah."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, eyes flitting over him, taking in his unattainable air and straight posture. Her arms twitched with the want to hug him, so she wrapped them around her body, mumbled good night and left the room.

"Rose?"

She stopped. Swallowed. "Yeah?"

His feet hit the grating, one step after another bringing him closer. Her heart sped up and she held her breath until she felt his hand brushing along her arm. She exhaled with a whoosh and spun around, crashing into his waiting embrace. An _oomph_ left him, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, helping her as she balanced on her tiptoes with her nose buried in his neck. Then, much too soon, he let her go and she stumbled back.

She opened her mouth to speak out of reflex, whatever inane apology that would come to her first, but closed it again when he took her hands and gave them a squeeze.

"See you tomorrow, Rose. Night."

He released her hands, turned around, and walked away. She watched him until he reached the console room, then heaved a sigh and went on a search for a new room.

* * *

**tbc**


End file.
